


Sanctuary

by JLPierre



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Post-War, Rebuilding, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 11:10:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10875543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JLPierre/pseuds/JLPierre
Summary: Written for the Strictly Dramione's Spring Fest 2017.Rating: MSynopsis: When Hermione aids the rebuilding of Hogwarts during the summer before the new school year begins, she is surprised to find some of the Slytherin's have returned with herPrompt: 8th year, "What can I do to make you like me?", side pairing: Harry and PansyBeta/Alpha love to Mama2HPbabies, who I would be lost without and adore wholeheartedly.





	Sanctuary

 

* * *

**Sanctuary**

* * *

It was hot. Incredible, stupidly hot.

The sun was beating down on them all as they stumbled through the rubble and blasted remains of tall turrets and walls that had once provided safety. Hermione was applying her third cooling charm of the morning as she tugged her wild curls back into a tight bun on her head. There was little she could do for the baby hair that framed her face, letting them blow in the occasional hot breeze that wasn't welcoming in the slightest. Her eyes took in the others that had volunteered, friends and enemies all together as one, hoping to rebuild and move forward.

She wasn't sure how they all could as handshakes being given under the watchful eye of Professor McGonagall.

It was astounding that so many had even come back, never mind the individual faces she hadn't expected to see.

House Unity, the Sorting Hat had once spoken off before the world had fallen apart and then again when he had been pulled from the wreckage. Hermione expected to hear scoffs like she had heard sortings ago, but yet, here they all were defying the odds. She raised her hand to rub the few droplets that had begun to form on her brow even with the third charm applied.

She picked up the bottle of water that was beside her, thankful for self-filling at an ice temperate and a chill ran down her spine at the sight of grey eyes staring at her before the mouth of the bottle met her lips.

He should have broken eye contact. He didn't. His eyes were watching as she sipped the liquid and he looked uncomfortable as she swallowed it without thought.

Hermione offered a smile, one that wasn't returned straight away as he scooped his fringe from his forehead and she placed the cap back on her bottle. She despised her lustful thoughts at seeing him in a form fitting t-shirt and Muggle shorts, but the sight was rather becoming on him and was further intensified by the relaxed expression she didn't usually see.

She continued with the restoration, paying little attention to anyone and everyone until Harry handed her a cup of something that she knew wasn't water, his eyes bright for the first time in weeks. Harry had said that restoring the first place he called home was therapeutic for him; she had to agree that it was doing wonders for him.

"Thanks," Hermione smiled, taking the cup from his hand as she raised the cup to her lips. "I needed that."

"You need to rest," Harry warned, slipping his hands into his pockets as he looked at her full of brotherly-judgement. A look she first encountered in the tent during their hunt; it was a look he gave her when he realised she wasn't taking care of herself, not that he was ever one to judge. "I'm going to the Weasley's later, you should come."

Hermione's mind automatically shouted no, having first come to stay at the castle to escape the hectic Burrow with its thin layer of mourning that remained. She felt selfish leaving, but the house was suffocating and stopped her from her grief.

While she had always felt welcome there, since the day of the Battle, she had found herself feeling similar to a spare part. "I think I'm going to spend some time in my second home," she smiled sweetly, her hand lowering the cup as Harry shook his head. "I need to mourn too, Harry."

"I know," her friend said, and she honestly believed he did. He had been the one that came with her when she asked to track her parents. He was the one that cradled her crying frame in the middle of the Ministry when they informed her they were unable to rectify her work on them. Harry had been the one that held her together; her brother, the one that always saved her.

Hermione twisted her wrist, looking at the worn silver watch that had once been her mother's and noticed the time. "I best hydrate the others," she said, her other hand removing her wand from her holster, cleaning her cup before duplicating it. She could feel green eyes watching her skill as she filled each one with cold water before applying the Stasis Charm to ensure they stayed just as cold as they all deserved. She levitated them up, impressing herself with her wandless magic as she moved past Harry.

She passed them around to each person, old or young, woman and man. The Slytherin's were all huddled together, and she left them till last, needing to build confidence in herself to go over as she tried to settle the shudders at the memories that filled her.

"Granger," Blaise nodded, taking a cup with a smile. Theodore Nott following next, Daphne Greengrass and then Pansy.

The dark haired witch took one with caution, her eyes without confidence for the first time. Hermione smiled, earning a frown from Pansy for her efforts. "I am far more inventive than poisoning water," she attempted to tease but saw quickly that it was falling flat. "Not that, I wouldn't -"

Draco Malfoy moved past his friend, his hand taking a cup with a nod. "We aren't in the joking mood today, Granger," he snarled as he raised the cup to his lips, his eyes burning into her. She wasn't sure why she burned under his gaze, she just hated how much she enjoyed it.

* * *

It was a sight that he had never expected, Pansy ' _soul-less_ ' Parkinson attempting to flirt with Harry ' _will not die_ ' Potter. The two had gotten disgustingly close after the bumbling witch had tried to restore the courtyard by herself, nearly killing herself in the process. Thank goodness the 'saviour' was there to save.

Ever since that day, the two had been laughing, teasing, and just genuinely making everyone in the vicinity sick; Draco more so because he was the one who had to endure her talking about him late into the night. He knew he should have said no when McGonagall asked if any of the boys minded sharing with the Slytherin girls.

Draco had attempted to drive a wedge between them at first, reminding the two of them that Pansy had been a second away from handing over the scar-headed bean to the man with no nose. It didn't work and if anything they bonded even more over the 'silly mistakes' - as they were now dubbing it - and the two of them even laughing over Harry thinking it was an ingenious idea to use a curse he had never heard of in a duel.

"I'm glad my near death experience is humorous to the two of you," Draco had snarled.

Pansy smirked as she placed her forkful of pie into her mouth, "Draco isn't one for laughter. He prefers sarcasm and hatred. Don't you Drake?"

"Ugh," he snarled as he rose from the single table in the Great Hall. The evening sun was coming through the newly fixed glass when he decided he had enough. The bright beams of the setting sun painted the Hall as Draco stormed out in the hope of retreating to the only safe place he knew.

It was an entirely other place when he entered; the bookshelves were a lighter shade of wood, and the entire place was far brighter than he had ever known. He remembered the fractured glass windows he used to stare out of, even when the rain hammered against them and drowned his view. Draco, although feeling nostalgic, much preferred the newly stained ones that shone speckles of rainbows around the place. He couldn't help the smile that moved up his face, his shoulders releasing weight he hadn't known he was carrying. Draco walked across the wooden floor, running his finger down the old and new spines of books that were all begging to be read, not noticing the name of any of them as he did.

"Oh."

Draco turned on his heel to see Granger with a handful of books and her hair in loose curls framing her face. He wasn't sure if it was the sight of her without dirt or sweat on her face, that he had only ever seen her in school robes, or that he was looking at her for the first time without prejudice filled eyes, but he couldn't help but look her up and down.

Her robes had done nothing for her over the years, proceeded to hide an enviable body. Her cheekbones had become more defined, and her smile seemed to fit her face unlike when it had been warped by her teeth. The dress that clinched her waist showed curves Draco wished to caress - unsure where his desire came from, but she looked so unlike Granger, unlike any girl if he was honest, that he didn't care. This Hermione Granger was mesmerising in the oddest way.

"I didn't know... um," she said, obviously flustered by his presence. Draco saw her clutch the books a little tighter to her chest before sighing. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he managed to say, although it was with considerable difficulty as his throat dried when Hermione moved passed him.

He watched as she slid volumes into appropriate slots, wondering why on Merlin's green earth she wasn't using her wand as she disappeared down an aisle. He shuffled his weight, unsure whether to leave or partake in some simple conversation before retiring to the temporary housing they had been offered here. "You… did this all yourself?" He asked to the library.

Hermione poked her head out of the aisle, "If you are here to mock me."

"If I were here to mock you, Granger, I would not socialise with you before doing so," he responded snarkily. "Even I can be polite."

He saw her cheeks flush, unsure if it was from embarrassment or something much worse but he hid any reaction he may have had behind his usual mask. The Malfoy Mask, his mother had called it that when he was a child and he tried to hide things from her. His mother, who was now drinking tea in France with old family members and his stripped-off-magic father, unknowing that their son was so close to the Muggle-Born who had been tortured in their home.

"Sorry," she mumbled, appearing empty handed off books in front of him. "I - It was uncalled for."

Draco shrugged, "I like the windows," he said attempting to change the conversation as he moved closer to the nearest one, his fingers tracing the outline of it as he tried to avoid having to look at her. Her legs and chest had become distracting. Even if he could and would admire the female form, it was still Granger and he didn't want to be seen ogling.

"Stained glass…" Hermione said. He rolled his eyes at her assumption that he wouldn't know. She continued, "They're very popular in -"

"- Churches and Victorian houses," Draco finished as he looked over his shoulder to see her frowning. "You shouldn't assume you're the cleverest person in a room, not while I'm here." It was a pleasant moment to see her scowl, wondering if she knew how unattractive it made her, not that she probably cared in the slightest. Girls like her didn't care for coiled hair and charms that highlighted cheekbones or hid imperfections. "I will throw it out there, for the record. Pre-War Draco Malfoy was an arsehole; he was prejudiced and a bully. Not my finest traits but I own them, and I was what I was. Post-war Draco Malfoy is not those things. Which is how I can admit that I have visited my fair share of both settings where stained glass is popular; I much prefer it here."

Draco heard her move closer and he dreaded her speaking, expecting it to be laced with bitterness and probably another punch for his efforts.

"I think it would be easier for us to move on if you just said that you were sorry."

Draco turned around to face her, his brow raised, "Such a Gryffindor," he muttered before placing his hands in his pockets and heading towards an aisle. "Sorry," he called out, not willing to turn to face her as he glanced at the titles she had already managed to salvage.

* * *

"Oh, you are an infuriating arsehole I hope you know that!" Hermione shouted as she scurried behind a bookshelf, her hand slamming the books into the shelves from the piles she had made. "No one asked you to come here and interfere."

She heard him snort, "No one asked me too? Clearly, the gods did, Granger, after they saw the order in which you were putting their books!" Draco looked at the pile on the table, frowning at their order.

"Gods don't have books you, twit!"

Hermione near jumped out of her skin as he appeared beside her, unsure when and how he moved so quickly with a devilish grin on his face that made her stomach bubble with anger. "I thought you told me that the Bible was from The God of all Gods?"

"As if you care for Muggle beliefs," Hermione's shoulder connecting with his as she pushed past him. She held her breath out of fear of wincing, not wanting to rub the targeted part and admit that it hurt more than she wished it did.

Draco could be heard behind her, but she was unwilling to meet his cocky grin again. The look was making her far angrier than his thirteen-year-old self had when she had punched him before the madness of that night. "You are assuming things again, Granger."

She wasn't sure why that statement was the one to push her button, but it did. It angered her. It made her livid, and it made every single thought she had move to the top and fly out of her mouth.

With a huff and a throw of her arms, she twirled on her heels to meet his silver stare. "Assuming is what people do when they do not know something. But I know you don't care for Muggle beliefs because, for a long time Malfoy, you hated me for just being a Muggle! Now, as much as I'd love to believe you can change," she spat. "No one changes like that overnight!"

"It has been a few fucking weeks -" Draco tried to interrupt, his smirk spread across his disgustingly handsome face as she pushed past him, not willing to meet his gaze any longer.

"No one goes from hating to accepting as easy as you claim to be. No one that was horrid and rotten suddenly goes to being bright, and handsome-" Hermione silenced herself. Her shoulders were sinking, realising the horridness of her tone and what she had near admitted that contradicted everything. She wondered if it was too much to hope he hadn't heard her, but of course, he would have - this was Malfoy.

Hermione heard him turn on the spot and move to the end of a bookshelf, resting his back against it, one foot raised to press flat against the wood. "You ever think that maybe I wasn't an arsehole, prejudiced git all the time? It ever cross your mind that having that man in my house changed me. Did you consider that I only pushed on with that task to save someone else?" Her eyebrows lowered, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth as she swallowed the bitterness that was building in her throat. "I haven't had those opinions in a long time. I did horrid, despicable things that I will never forgive myself for but, I have changed. I changed long before Potter managed to rid the world of that man.I changed because, why ever not? This is my life, no one else's. Of all people, I thought you'd get that."

Hermione remained silent, feeling as if she was a young child that was being scolded although his tone never reflected that way. He had actually remained quite calm for saying she attacked him.

"So do me a favour, Granger?" Her eyes were looking up to meet his, "Just say that you're sorry." Hermione's eyes narrowed as he smirked, her hand moving to her wand as he threw his head back and laughed, filling the room with a brightness it had been missing. The sound of it seemed to wash away whatever she had been holding on to and took the weight of the moment away with it.

"Careful," she smirked, "I can punch that smile from your face." His eyes were widening, sprinkling her with silver and the look, combined with his growing smile set her laughing **,** the two of them filling the air with laughter that she was sure Hogwarts hadn't seen in awhile.

* * *

There had been nothing more blissful than coming inside for dinner. The sun had been far hotter than it ever had been; Hermione was begging for the rain. It was something she had rarely seen since the end of the war. She was wondering if dark magic inspired weather change before her thoughts were rudely interrupted by Pansy.

"So, why should I open my legs for you?" Pansy asked Harry. Draco near choked on his pumpkin juice, and Hermione blushed brighter than a lighthouse. The dark haired witch scowled at them both. "Ignore them!"

Harry, who had looked utterly confused, turned to Hermione in the hope of clarification, "What is happening?"

"Focus Potter!" Pansy snipped, slamming her hand on the table. "How on earth did you vanquish He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named if you have the attention span of a Flobberworm?"

Hermione pointed at herself, and Pansy gave an 'oh' before the dark haired witch began scribbling on her parchment. It was only then that Hermione frowned, unsure what the woman before her was doing, but it looked oddly like a dating profile on Harry.

"Wait," Harry said suddenly, reading the parchment, his confidence suddenly growing. "You really, um, think I'm attractive?"

Pansy looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment, "Slytherin's aren't like Gryffindor. We're direct, I would rather not spend a serious amount of time courting you just so that I can ride you. Is that fucking clear enough or should I just get up and find some other soul to service me."

Harry's mouth fell open. Hermione moved her hand to close it, and he returned to the room at the spark of her touch. It was clear to see that he was struggling to process what the Slytherin had said. "So you l-like me?"

"Salazar, you're a slow lion, and a half aren't you? I guess Granger here ensured you didn't walk off the edge of the tower," Draco snarled as Hermione glared, half-tempted to kick him under the table.

Pansy adjusted herself, extending her leg under the bench to Potter's thigh, "Like is a terrible word. You're shaggable, is that... any better?" Harry looked at her with a frown and Pansy foot paused in its climb. "Do I have to spell it out?"

"No," Harry's voice reached a new pitch and Hermione didn't even want to think where Pansy's foot was. Harry was becoming seriously flustered, and his cheeks began to burst into a shade of red from the edges. "Just-t, Oh Godric," he mumbled, unable to finish his thought.

"It doesn't dwell to focus on dreams, Potter," Pansy chimed in a Dumbledore-esque voice, removing her foot as she picked up his spoon and licked the remaining custard off before standing up and handing his spoon back. "I'm more of a haunt your nightmares kind of girl."

Harry watched her purposefully as she slid from the bench, moving out of the Great Hall. Draco was busy shaking his head as Hermione looked baffled.

"What was that?"

"Foreplay," Draco said as Hermione's mouth fell open. "Pansy enjoys playing with her food before devouring its head." Harry coughed at this point, and Draco turned to face him. "Don't worry too much Potter; I survived didn't I?"

"Barely," Hermione smirked as she picked up a grape and threw it into her mouth confidently, noticing the smirk on Draco's face and rather enjoying that she had put it there.

* * *

Hermione had become fond of her solitude, enjoying the quietness of the library and rather loving the fact that she was organising it by herself. Draco had taken it upon himself to aid her where possible and bring books he had 'come across' after seeing what she was 'lacking'. At first, she had been touched by his gesture, but now it was becoming tedious.

She had asked to work on the library because she knew that in a few weeks, it would be full of students who had little to no respect for it. For her though, this was her sanctuary, the one place she knew she could think. She didn't want to share that, not with someone who didn't acknowledge her outside of it.

Draco would spend the entire day being silent with her, ignoring her even when she asked him questions. It was almost as if he didn't know her and that she was just another figure standing beside him. It was the opposite when he arrived in the library, smirking as he cheerfully greeted her and acted as if the day's events had never occurred.

She never said a thing, why would she? Hermione didn't feel she had anything to gain from it. Nothing had changed; out there, he was the same arse she had known at school and yet in here, he wanted to be her friend. Draco would go on to explain the importance of the books he had brought for her - as if she had never read them or seen them - and she nodded politely as if she was really grateful for his recommendations. Most of them she had read during her second or third year, so she found the entire experience rather embarrassing for him, but she didn't mention it and instead silently grinned to herself.

She found that she was both happy and annoyed to have his company. She had expected obnoxious behaviour, but instead, he was normal with her. He would tell her about finding the library to be his sanctuary, especially last year. He would laugh around her, would listen to her as if she was someone he had known properly for years. Draco even seemed like he cared for her.

Hermione found that this behaviour did not continue outside of the library. No matter how great their evening was, out there he would be as surly as he was with everyone else, he would be sarcastic and he would be bitter. He would wear the weight of the world on his shoulders and not allow anyone to help him. Then, he would come here later when she was fixing a pillar or building a new bookcase and he would help, he'd be kind and he would be everything he never was.

But the worst of it for her was that the person he was here was someone she wanted to get to know better. He was someone that she could understand, why he did the things he did, and she could see how large his heart was and the lengths he would go to make someone happy. He talked fondly of his parents and yet, in the same sentence, say how disappointed he was to have their name. Draco Malfoy was a human in the library and an arse in the world outside of these walls.

It had become so infuriating that she could feel herself slowly building to an explosion. The flame that lit the wick was when he snuck in elf wine. Draco declared that it was intended as a gesture of friendship, but it rubbed her the wrong way. She didn't want elf wine, she wanted him to be the same person outside that he was in their sanctuary. And so she snapped, slamming the book he'd just handed her down on the table. It's clang echoed around the room and she enjoyed watching him jumped at the unexpected noise.

The presence of the wine in the room began talking for her, letting go of composure she had built to force herself to not launch at him. All Hermione's fears over him insulting her and the insecurities she felt if he left and never spoke to her again all lifted, letting her concerns flood out into the space between them without as much as even sipping the devil's liquid.

 _ **"What can I do to make you like me**_ , not just in here but out there? What can I do to make you just… be _bloody_ normal with me when you're around more than just me," Hermione snapped. "To even just… tolerate me. Everyone else is fine, everyone else can move on and be okay with me, but you, you..." She took a deep breath as he chose not even to meet her gaze, "I don't know what I ever did to you, other than being born, but what did I do now that makes it so hard for you?"

Draco looked up from the books before him, "You don't want me to like you, Granger. I ruin everything I touch so be thankful that I don't especially care for you." Her eyebrow raised in confusion. "I'm not one of those cliche Muggle men who shower you with roses and poems. I'm the type of man to tell you when you're wrong and make you breathless as I press you into objects while you wish your knickers would evaporate from between your thighs." Hermione's breath caught in her throat, unaware her heart was racing or even why. "I'm not a man you need in your life. Because I'm a man who says fucking things like that and won't apologise for them even when they're crude. I am not a healthy man to befriend; I'm a man that gazed at your chest when you leant over and I am a man who tries to look up your dress when you bend over."

Hermione could feel her skin bristling under his electrifying eyes; she wasn't sure if she was getting warm or if she needed to re-apply a cooling charm from working so thoroughly. "I thought you'd have realised by now that I'm not the kind of woman who can be deferred from dangerous quests."

"Ah, but I'm not quest."

Hermione's lips spread into a smirk, "Aren't you? A dangerous goal without direction, it seems somewhat applicable."

Draco let out a quiet laugh, breaking contact with her eyes in the meantime. "Sarcasm: the way to my heart."

"If only you were that easy."

"Be careful Granger."

"Why? Because I'm 'tipsy' and admitting that my body finds you attractive and my brain can't understand you!"

Draco raised his brow at her quick-witted comeback and omission, "I don't think you'd be interested in me if I were easy. I believe that you quite like the challenge of unearthing a caring, damaged man beneath this attractive exterior. I'm sorry, but I think you'll be bitterly disappointed."

Hermione leant against the wall opposite him, crossing one leg over the other noticing how his eyes gazed at her thigh as she did. "Not short on confidence."

"Stop trying to save me, Granger. I'm not a fucking collectable you need in your collection of damaged souls and unfixable losers," he added, lifting the bottle to his lips. "I am but one man, but I am not a man for you."

Hermione bit down on her lip, not even thinking before she spoke. She got caught up in the moment, "Maybe I don't want a man made for me, perhaps, I just want to live out a fantasy I've had since I saw you in here every night on the run up to OWLs." If his mouth had been full of wine, she was sure she would have been sprayed with it from sheer shock at her confession. "Plus, I am of sane mind."

Draco scoffed, his finger tapping the bottle.

"I've not even had a sip," she said as his eyes looked up at her and she watched his grey ones darken. "Clearly the presence of that and yourself has an effect on me.

"I think it may be bedtime then," Draco sniggered. "Alone though; I don't bed girls high of libraries."

* * *

Pansy frowned. A thick, ugly line that Hermione had come to recognise as ' _are you a fucking dickhead, Potter_ ' frown. Harry, as usual, looked at her with indifference, which only seemed to make the witch look at him with more disgust.

Their sexual tension had only increased since Pansy's declaration of feelings. Hermione had hoped that it would dampen when Harry had asked her about her offering to sacrifice him. Her answer of, ' _I have a thing for martyrs, hence my crush on Malfoy here in sixth year'_ , didn't settle her in the slightest.

"I'm on courtyard repairs next," Hermione said. She had hoped the change in conversation would alleviate some pressure, but as Harry's eyes widened she knew that the Slytherin was up to her old tricks. "What about you, _Malfoy_?"

Draco, the blond who secretly helped her repair her favourite place and the one who drank late into the night with her, gave her a look that made her feel as though she was invisible. She was tired of that look already, and the sun hadn't even been in the middle of the sky for that long. "Courtyard," he mumbled through gritted teeth.

She decided to be quiet after that. With quiet precision, she spooned the remainder of her jelly into her mouth, attempting to think of Arithmancy problems in her head to drown out Pansy's sweet giggles as she tried to flirt with Harry. The display was sickening, but nothing put her off jelly.

The afternoon was similar to how most of the other repairs had been. Hot, uncomfortable and tense. It was only further worsened by Draco's coldness towards her, something that was beginning to annoy her more than it had in the library. She was barely keeping the lid on it, but she finally felt herself lose it when Harry winked at Pansy, and the two set off to find more wood.

"They do realise this courtyard is made from stone," Hermione hissed.

Draco gave her one of his overly confident smirks, "Your naivety _astounds_ me, Granger. Pansy is looking for wood, but not from trees."

"Huh?"

"His _cock_ , Granger. Wood? Fucking hell, you was best friends with two men! How do these things pass over your head?" Draco sniggers, flicking his wrist as his wand glowed bright blue and a part of the arch fit perfectly back into place. "I actually am rather pleased they've gone, their sexual tension was making me hot."

Hermione raised her brow, "Into threesomes now?"

"I'm into sex, male or female at this stage is just a bonus." Draco glanced over, and her expression must have pushed him to explain. "There is a rather funny tree; I am sure it wasn't there before... It is, um, _giving me mixed feelings_."

"You're getting turned on by... a tree?"

Draco glared, "No, Granger." His cheeks, however, were telling a different story, his hand rubbing his face in the hope of hiding his new glow, " _Fuck_. It… looks like something, which doesn't help it - it is not helping my current predicament."

"Which is?"

She watched him tense his jaw, his cheeks hollowing for a second and his eyes pierced into her. Hermione wasn't sure anger had ever looked as sexy as it currently did on him, something she hated. The proximity, the late nights and long days. The image she once had of Draco Malfoy, was not the same one as she had now.

"Just… Oh, fucking forget it, I think we're done for the day anyway," Draco said, changing the subject and as the wind blew past them, her hairs on her neck stood up. "Do you need a hand tonight?"

Hermione stared, blinking for a second, "We... we're almost done. I think."

"I'll still pop along," he smirked. "In case you need muscles."

"I have a wand."

" _Fine_ , alcohol. As if I'd injure myself over a library."

The two shared a look, one that was full of electricity and all other things that she couldn't explain. Hermione Granger liked Draco Malfoy, and she had no idea what she was going to do about it. Her mouth opened to dispel the tension, but it was then that the sky decided to part and an onslaught of rain hammered down on them out of nowhere.

They should have ran or moved under shelter. Instead, they stood, staring at the other as their clothes stuck against their frames and both blushing at the sight of the others figure.

"Draco," she whispered, moving closer.

He took a step back from her, "I'll see you in a bit," his feet taking him in a direction far away from the castle.

* * *

It was complete, _finished_.

She hadn't noticed him, and it allowed Draco another moment to linger in disappointment that their time together would be over. The woman, the beauty that she always had been and he had been too blind to see, was busy staring at books; he was not surprised by this. Hermione Granger, someone who loved books more than people.

He bit back a snigger at his joke, thinking that should be the slogan and not the Brightest Witch of her Age. That statement only made those who used it look idiotic; she was so much more than bright.

Hermione sighed, her shoulders sagging and he watched the fabric shift with her movements as she raised her hand to brush the strands of hair from her face. He swallowed, watching in slow motion as she turned on her heels to see him standing there, awkwardly watching her without regret.

He had run for the longest time in the rain. The soil was caking his legs and the air being beaten out of him as he continued to sprint. Draco had no idea why he ran, but he knew what had caused it.

Fear.

Fear of her. Fear of starting a new school year.

Just fear.

If she whispered his name, Draco didn't hear it. All noise had evaporated from the room and the sound of his heartbeat thumping in his ears was all that he heard. He had never been good at moments or timings. He wasn't as intuitive as he liked to believe, this moment only further proved this.

The one thing he knew, the one thing he was completely confident with was where his feet were taking him. Each step brought him closer to her, closer to someone who saw him for the man who had turned his back on everything he once knew. He saw her as the girl who fought for more than just herself, she fought for everyone, and as he neared her, his heart slowed to a near stop.

Draco looked into her doe eyes, looking at the complete confidence she was emitting, and he wanted to drown in it, bathe in her entirely until she healed all his cracks.

"Granger..." Her name suddenly sounded odd on his tongue as he took a deep breath. This would be the time, the past would be left there, and the present and future would be greeted with open arms. Draco rubbed the back of his neck, watching her swallow and suddenly his nerves faded. "Hermione," he said, smiling.

Her eyes still had not broken from him. _Fuck, he loved that._

Draco parted his lips to speak, the words being lost from his tongue as his confidence zapped from his bones. Opening and closing his fists by his side, he looked down, shuffling his feet before he looked back up and with a thought of _'fuck it',_ he did it.

His hand snaked into her curls, surprised at how soft they were against his fingers. His palm was grazing her cheek as he brought her to him, his lips pressing against hers so delicately he could claim it didn't happen if she pulled away.

 _She didn't._ Hermione Granger did not pull away.

Her hand gripped his t-shirt, pulling him closer towards her as he brushed his tongue over her lips, begging for entrance to deepened his kiss, feeling more of her curls in his fist. It was as though they were made for one another, their movements that of precision, as though they had practised this all before. Draco slipped his hand against her hip, and the sweet gasp that escaped her mouth as his tongue teased hers was one he would never forget.

He lost himself. The most calm and collected man here lost himself in the library with the girl who had punched him, who had hated him.

_Fuck he loved it._

Draco's hand slid down over the curve of her dress, grasping her cheek and thigh as he lifted her up and he groaned as her legs beautifully moved around his hips. She moved her head, pressing her lips against his from the other side and he was thankful for the bookcase as he pressed her back into the wood. His palm gripped the wood as his fingers moved to the side for support, holding on as he rolled his hips into hers and tried not to fall to his knees at the passion it created.

The sounds; the sweet and beautiful sounds. Draco wanted to hear them all the time, he wanted them on repeat, he wanted them always. Hermione's lips tasted of everything he shouldn't be allowed, sweetness and sugar. She tasted like innocence, but looked like a drug.

"I'm a terrible choice."

Hermione licked her lips, a wickedness in her eyes, "I'm about due to make some of those. It has been a while."

"I didn't; I don't sleep with girls who love books."

"What do you do with girls who love books?" Hermione asked, biting down on her lip.

"I date them," he whispered close to her ear, meeting her eyes before taking her lips and any words she was about to say. _Yes,_ he thought to himself, knowing that she was just as dangerous as anyone. He could taste it, feel it in the way their pulses echoed.

Draco broke his lips from hers, capturing his breath as he heard her try to locate her own. "Is this your fantasy, Hermione?" His fingers were teasing her hair around and around. "Do you want me in the library you built?"

If he didn't think she could get any more beautiful, her eyes flashed a shade that wasn't known by any artist. Her lips swollen, pink and glorious were rolling against one another before spreading out into a smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know, Draco..."

Draco pressed his lips back against hers, carrying her down the shelving to a desk right under the pretty stained glass windows and grinned at the prospect of a new year, with a new witch.

* * *

**xox**


End file.
